Spelling and Rock Don't Mix
by writerdude3000
Summary: what do spelling and rock have in common? well... NOTHING! Thats what an alone and bitter Katie Brown finds out. She finds less help in rock music, but she does find comfort and friendship through Spelling Bee's. READ AND REVIEW
1. Katie

xX... Well, as a self-proclaimed: HAS BEEN SoR FF writer, I have to "boldly" try and reinvent myself. So- here goes. My attempt at an old fashioned story! Mwaha! **REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! THEY MAKE MY DAY** ...xX

_"Ms Brown... please spell: Sysegy"_

_"S...Y...S... ...E-G-Y? Sysegy?"_

_"Weee Have a winner!"_

I sat on a couch in Dewey's apartment. Going over the scene in my mind. Sysegy- what an easy word!

"Katie...!"

How could I beat all those... SMART people?

"Hellooo-oo...Katie?"

The type of people I made fun of... it made no sense, but I had did it.

"Katie BROWN! LISTEN TO ME!"

I jerked my head up,

"Hmm?"

"Are you ok, Kate?"

What a stupid question:

"Yeah- 'course. You know me- I'm A-OK! Playing my bass- in the back..."

"Come one, stop angsting biotch- we're rehearsing Zacks guitar solo..."

Ugh. Another solo for Zack- who gives a crap. I'm only 14. I don't want to be in a band, a rock group that's going no-where. Hell, I don't even want to play bass anymore- its not like anyone cares about Me anyway- I want to do other stuff, be normal.

"Katie, you gonna get up?" a frustrated Freddy Jones says, perched on the thin seat of his drum set. I shake my head, pick up my bass and plug it in to the amp.

"'Kay Zack, its all you!" Freddy yells as Zack plays. Stops. Fixes. Plays. I stand there in the background. Why the hell did I have to get up for this? Suddenly Freddy starts playing, crap, I've forgotten my que.

"Fuck it all..." I mutter.

"Katie- what the hell was that?" Freddy yells, angry- face getting red.

"Sorry... I...I... I don't feel good!" I say in haste. Desperate to get the hell out of the cramped, crumbling apartment.

"Fine- go... We'll… I'll see you tomorrow..." Freddy sighs, staring at me. He's a perv, all he wants is some action- at 14!

"Yeah." I say, grab my bass, unplug my amp and put it in the closet, and quickly open the door, and am out of there. I walk the block and suddenly remember I've forgotten my coat. It's freezing, as I watch Lawrence pull away in his moms car I figure practice is over. I slowly head back to the apartment. Take out my key and open the door. Trudging up the stairs I pass Zack on his way out,

"Hi," he says quietly, quickly averting his eyes. Opening the door I see the last person I want to see putting the pads on his drums. He smirks as I enter. I drop my bass on the couch.

"Back so soon?" he taunts. I give him the bird and grab my coat,

"I forgot my coat asshole."

"Geez- who lit the fuse on your tampon?"

I roll my eyes and try to ignore him.

"Hey Katie..."

"hmm?" I say, heading towards the door.

"We're all alone...and I know you like me... you wanna..." he nods in the direction of the closet.

I open the door, grab my bass, walk out and slam it shut. I leave the building and start on my way home. Still thinking about my glorious victory. Sure, it was only the Pre-Lims but Pre-Lims or not, I'm on my way to the city Bee, than the county, than the region, than the state, than WASHINGTON! Washington- I repeat the final destination in my head, it sparkles. I run into someone.

Falling over, I turn beet red and look franticly for my bass, only to find it right next to me.

"Sorry..." the voice says, it feminine and soft. I recognize it.

"Olive?"

I look up to see Olive Ostrovsky looking down at me. She got second place in the bee and is also moving on to city.

"Hi Katie!" she says softly. She always speaks softly like she's afraid of something… Its apparent she's embarrassed about her lack of money- or lack of good clothes. She's wearing old, ratty jeans and a t-shirt. I'm straight but Olive is beautiful. Gorgeous red hair, not TOO red, but gorgeous. She's not what you'd call: hot. But she's beautiful. She's just afraid though.

"I'm sorry, I was... you know I was thinking about the Bee!" I say, dusting myself off. She smiles. She's a very good speller, better than me. It's the luck of the words.

"Yeah- so was I. I can't believe you got Sysegy and I got Callipygian. Its not fair." she laughs. I laugh. She looks at my bass, "You play guitar?" she asks, a gleam in her eyes, "I've ALWAYS wanted to play guitar, but my dad won't let me..."

"Actually, Bass Guitar. Its sorta like guitar."

"That's not fair… My dad hardly lets me do anything."

"That sucks, maybe I can teach you… Well, I know a guy who plays guitar maybe he can teach you."

"Wow. My dad would kill me- lemme give you my number," she laughs. Softly. She takes out a scrap of paper from her pocket and a ballpoint pen. She writes, leaning on her knee.

"I'll give you a call, Olive. See you!" Olive is very nice… too nice for a spelling bee. People there are cut throat.

"Good bye Katie," she says to me, smiling, walking off. I walk the other way; I decide to stop off at Zack's to see if he'll help me out. I head down the small street, past the diner and the record shop, past the coffee shop and to a small little block with massive houses. Ever since my family became poor again, everything seems so out of reach. I climb the ten or so steps and ring his doorbell. After a moment his mom comes to the door… she smiles weakly.

"Oh…. Hell-o Kathryn."

"Hi Ms Mooneyham, how do you do?" my manners kick in

"I'm fine thank you," she says curtly, obviously not the conversation she wants to be having, "Zackary is in his room, up the stairs," she says, pointing through the perfect living room and up the perfect stairs, down the perfect hallway and into his not so perfect room. I smile back, pretending not to notice that she is uncomfortable with my presence,

"Thanks a lot," I say and bound up the stairs. I knock on the door.

I can't believe I'm doing this. Zack… not a big fan.

He opens his door and looks surprised.

"Hey?"

"Zack- I know this is odd but I have a favor to ask."

"A wha-?"

"Favor… by the way, I loved your solo!" I lie through my teeth… the things I do…

"What do you need?"

"Can you give guitar lessons?"

"I'm sorry- what?"

"Guitar lessons, for a friend. She's very nic…"

"_She_?" he cuts me off. What an ass, obsessed with girls. Maybe this was a bad idea…

"Yeah, a friend of mine. Her dad won't let her so I thought you could do it… as a favor."

He thinks it over, I want to slap him. Just say yes you ASS

"Alright- on one condition."

"what?" I ask, I don't think I want to know.

"You go out with Freddy…"

I stop in my tracks. What.The.Hell. the one person I think is more of a perv than Zack… Freddy.

"I…"

"Do you want to help your lady friend out?"

"Ok- one date. ONE. It sucks that you two are friend."

"Just helping a pal out!" he grins.

Gah. What have I got myself into? I hurry home, to 3487 River Drive. Apartment, well, more like tenement 14b. I open the door and ride up the elevator getting out and opening the door to our 2-bedroom apartment. Its got low ceilings, furnished sparsely and smells like piss. 2 bedrooms for five people. I pick up the phone and dial Olive's number.

"Hello?" a gruff sounding mans voice answers the phone.

"Um…Hi…is Olive in?" I ask timidly.

"Yea- one sec…" his voice trails off and I hear in the background:

OOOOLIVE! PHONE!

"Hi?" she says quietly.

"Hey- it's me…" I say.

"Oh, hey Katie…"

"How ya doing?" I ask, her voice sounds fragile, weak and hurt.

"I… I'm… I'm getting by." That's Olive- wise beyond her years. Something about that voice…

"Well, I talked to my. Um. Friend. He said sure! You can go on over when you're done with school…" my voice trails off…

Long silence

"Great." She says.

"Well- when should I tell him to expect you?" I ask.

"I dunno… whenever I get done with spelling club…"

"Spelling club?"

another long silence

"Katie- my dad looks…um…mad, is it possible we can talk at Alice's Dinner? Plea…" her voice goes dead. I hear a loud thud and a door opens and closes, I hear OLLIIVEE COME BACK NOW GIRL! From her father. I hang up, grab my coat and key and bolt out the door.

……………………….

Olive is sitting alone at a booth when I arrive at Alice's. She's wearing a rainbow sherbet colored sweater and her jeans. She grasps a mug of hot tea in both hands. Her stare is blank…with a touch of hurt. I smile and wave, I stop. I see Zack sitting at the counter eating a piece of pie.

Entering the diner I go over to where Olive is.

"Are you ok?" I ask, sitting down across from her.

"…Yeah…."

Long silence

"No." she says, I'm taken back, "I'm not ok. My dad…he hits me. My mom, she's in India. A religious freak. I don't have any, well many friends and I spend my time reading the dictionary, sitting in my room or getting beat. I know it sounds weird, angsty and generic but Katie- you have to believe me. There's no one I can talk to. I hate making scenes or causing trouble. I'm simple.

I look at her. She's not tall. But not short. Not thin, but no way fat. Not hot. But gorgeous. Her dirty red/brown hair is down passed her shoulders.

"I… ZACK!" I yell, he looks over. Olive looks very embarrassed, "Zack, come on over here!" he does, "Zack- this is Olive, the girl you'll be teaching guitar to!" I say, trying to lighten the mood. Olive looks down and turns beat red.

"Hey," he says coolly.

"Hi…" she looks up.

The stare at each other for a while, not a word. I look around franticly. Olive's too good for him!

"Well," she says, getting up, "it's nice to meet you Zack but I've really got to go."

Zack gets up,

"When do you wanna come over?" he asks. She shrugs, "How about tomorrow at 4?"

"Sounds fine," she says. She looks at me, than at him and hurriedly leaves.

"She's cute." He says.

"She's the nicest girl I know, don't mess with her. She's sweet and would never hurt a fly. I hear anything about you coming on to her I will knock you senseless. Kay?"

"Gotcha Helga," he says. Laughs and leaves, paying for his bill on the way out. I pay for Olive's tea and go.

"_Life is random, and unfair… LIFE IS PANDEMONIUM_

xX… WELL? REVIEW! …xX


	2. Olive

xX… well, here we go again. As I try to reinvent myself! LOL. Bear with me and enjoy! READ AND REVIEWWWWW! …xX

_when I was 8,_

"_Olive- you're mother isn't coming back"_

_when I was 10,_

"_Olive! Will you ever do anything right?"_

_when I was 11,_

"_Olive, your mother wrote a letter… I lost it"_

_when I was 13,_

"_Olive, COME BACK HERE!"_

_and now…_

"_Olive your mother doesn't love you- she never did and never will. You were a mistake…"_

My mother sends a letter sometimes, they usually have the same focus- "Olive, how are you? Bombay is nice, blah blah…" She never asked me if I would like to join her in the Bombay Sun. Never. I often feel abandoned. Ok, I am abandoned. I'm a freak. An ugly freak.

My mother's new name is Sagasi Nalapamor. Her old name was Suzan Watson. Her middle name was Suzan Ostrovsky. I miss Suzan Ostrovsky. I never knew Suzan Watson and I'll never know Sagasi Nalapamor. I doubt I even knew Suzan Ostrovksy, though I claim to. Not once has she ever said she loves me. I know it sounds stupid- but sometimes, I Love You can set someone at ease. But I don't even know how those words sound. Strung together like that. Sometimes I wish Suzan Ostrovsky would come to me. All the time I wish Suzan Ostrovsky would come to be. But never do I miss Suzan Ostrovsky. Missing someone is the equivalent of being weak. I can't be weak.

I spell. It's what I'm good at, but barely. You might call me a geek, that's what other people have called me. A long with nerd, loser, fatty, stupid head, ass hole, bitch, pansy and lesbo. I don't know why. But they do. But is it my place to stop them? No. At least that's what my dad says. I don't mind being a geek. Or nerd, loser, fatty, stupid head, ass hole, bitch, pansy and lesbo- because I know that I'm not half of those. I don't mind being called any of those there. There are only a few people like me- spellers. The geeks and freaks that can spell. People- like me.

I don't know why my mother left. She left when I was 4. I didn't realize she wasn't coming back until she didn't reappear weeks later. I cried. All kids cry. I have given up on my mom. It's obvious she doesn't care or she would have come back- but why does she never explain her reasoning. I never wanted comforting. I wanted her. I wanted you, mom. I don't want expensive things or stupid letters with stamps enclosed. I want you. I want to be able to hug you. I want you to be able to drive me to Bee's. I want you to say: I Love You. That's it. Can you take time out of your busy schedule for me, mom? Your daughter?

At first I told myself she'd come back and every birthday I'd wake up and hope she'd be in the kitchen sipping coffee. Or every time I got a report card I'd hope she'd call me to congratulate me on all A's. But after a while, when the letters stopped coming frequently. I quietly forgot her voice, her face, everything. If she didn't want to be part of my life, I didn't want part of hers. Though everything I've said is true.

So it's here, alone, broken and battered that I find myself. Sitting in class, listening to a boring English lesson. I doodle on my notebook, writing words I've been studying for the regional Bee. Anthropology. Two T's? No. One. Metamorphoses. Two M's? No. One.

"Olive, can you fix the sentence?"

Trigonometry. Blasphemy. Banns.

"Olive?"

Startled. I look up-

"Yes ma'am?" the class starts to laugh, I feel myself going beet red, "I mean sir…" I say quickly, I feel the tears swelling up in my eyes. I hear the class laughing. At me. I see Mr. Tompkins face. I put my head in my hands. Thankfully, he picks up the hint and moves on,

"Mitch- can YOU fix the sentence?"

I go back to my spelling. Soon, the class is over.

"Olive- can I see you please?"

Gulp.

"Yes Mr. Tompkins?" I'm standing at his desk, the class filing out. When they are gone he shuts the door.

"Olive, are there any problems? Anything going on?"

What? Other than an abusive father, countless verbal abuse at school and a negligent mother? Other than that!

"No."

"You seem, I don't know, unfocused lately Olive. Are you stressing about the Regional Bee, because really, Olive, it's just spelling."

JUST SPELLING? My life? The only thing I'm remotely good at is "just spelling"?

"I know."

"Good. If anything comes up, come to me please. Last chance- anything the matter, at home maybe?"

"No. sir."

"Alright, here's a pass. Go. Get outta here," he shoo's me out. Anxious to leave. I leave.

Spelling Club is fine. Never fun. But fine. I can't wait though- my first guitar lesson. My first time I'm doing something my dad doesn't approve of. I feel like a rebel. The bell is mercy. After School is done. I bolt out of the school, up the road and I follow the directions I got from Map Quest.

It's a big house, not a small apartment like mine. A large apartment. Still in my uniform, I can tell the woman who opens the door, maybe Zack's mom, doesn't approve. She purses her lips.

"Upstairs," she says, pointing at some stairs. I go up and figure his room is the one of the music coming out of it. I knock. He opens. Dark hair, shaggy. Obviously, his school doesn't have a uniform. He's wearing some jeans and a black shirt. A hem necklace around his neck and a thin string ankle bracelet. He's barefoot. He looks me over… ok, so the uniform doesn't look good on me. Simple red polo shirt and a skirt.

"Hi…" he says, not really all here.

"Yeah…" I say.

"Come on in," he says. I walk in. An unmade bed, hammock hanging over the bed, posters and clippings all over the wall. The shade is crooked and down, making the room dark. It's messy. Clothes, boxers, shirts, pants everything everywhere. A Coke can is in the dresser.

"So… guitar, eh?" he says.

"Um. Yeah."

He hands me a guitar, showing me how to hold it. I hold it, than, taking my hands in his he shows me how to play a chord,

"G" he says.

He takes my hands and moves them; he's right behind me, mirroring me. I can feel his breath, his back. It's frightening.

"B flat"

I laugh. Quietly.

He shows me a scale, than asks to play it back, he backs up. Now facing me. I play it back.

"Good!" he says, "Now…"

the lesson proceeds. Chords. Scales. Rhythms. Towards the end he shows me the basic tune of We Will Rock You. I pluck along helplessly. Whatever that song is. It's been an hour and a half.

"Time to go," I say. Giving him back the guitar.

"Stay for dinner?" he asks.

"Uh…"

he looks at me.

"I REALLY half to go. My dad's expecting me."

I grab my coat and bag and leave, thanking him and smiling, telling him I'll see him next week. As soon as I am out of his sight I bolt. I run all the way home and don't stop.

"Where you been?" my dad asks the moment I open the door.

"Uh. Spelling Club…" I say, softly.

"I just called the school, they said all after school activities ended at 4:30. Its 6. I've been," he gets close to me, inches apart from me. His breath brushes me face, "worried…" he puts his arms around me. I try to wiggle free. He grabs harder, stroking harder.

"Dad…!"

"Shh…" he says, "It's ok, now that you're home. I," he grabs my ass, "was," I try to break free, he holds on tighter, "so so so worried about you," I can't escape, his eyes envelope me, I'm wiggling. My hands limp by my side. He kisses the top of my head. I try to scream, I can't. My face is now buried in his wife beater.

"Daddy's here Olive… it's ok…" he grabs my head and kisses me. Not a fatherly kiss. On the lips. His face is rough. I grab a glass on the table and hurl it at the wall. It's all I can do. It shatters. Into a million tiny pieces.

I go limp.

xX. WELL? …xX


End file.
